Green Toothbrush
by Kaija West
Summary: There was no way in hell he'd tell Sam all that time had been spent looking for a toothbrush.


Green Toothbrush

_Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. I do own a green toothbrush that will never, never go in my mouth. Not beta'd, just done on the fly to justify buying a new laptop._

...

Dean strode into the convenience store like a man on a mission. He quickly scanned the store finding it empty of customers and easily located the aisle he was looking for. It didn't look promising and this was the third place he had tried tonight. He was sore and exhausted. He needed a beer and a bed and was well past the point of caring which order they came in. He was so beat he didn't even care if the bed or beer came with a side of attractive, and willing young woman, that's how damn tired he felt.

It was ass o'clock in the morning but there was no way in hell he was going back to the hotel for the night without the thing he was searching for.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean growled to himself. He'd found the peg of toothbrushes alright. But, with typical Winchester luck, the last remaining one was not what he needed. Dean glared at the green toothbrush and sighed.

…...

There had been a lot of rules growing up under John Winchester. Some of those rules had made no sense to Dean when he was younger and he had only come to understand that many of the things his father insisted upon had indeed been for his children's protection. Dean figured this was probably true of most kids, understanding things only in retrospect. When it came to the Winchester household however, there was a whole other level of potential danger - and a hell of a lot more rules to go along with it.

One of the rules that had very early been drilled into him was to never, EVER use the green toothbrush. His father telling him that was actually one of the first things Dean remembers from his childhood after his mother died. His father had come home bleeding, had given Dean no explanation for the torn shirt and raked open flesh. Dean had been too shocked to say anything, he'd never seen something like that for real, only on the tv, and certainly not affecting his own father. He'd quietly and obediently retrieved the bandages and waited to see what else his father might want him to go get. He'd fetched tools for John before when they worked on the car together. His father had apparently been pleased by Dean's lack of reaction as the next morning he had praised Dean for "keeping his head."

Sometimes, when he bothers to reflect back (which he tries to avoid), Dean thinks that may have been the moment that informed his method of dealing with chaos for the rest of his life. It's also one of the few times he ever remembers his Dad saying he was proud of him.

On the heels of that rare and unexpected praise was a warning to never put a green toothbrush in his mouth. Dean, trying his hardest to do exactly what he'd just been praised for, did not question the instruction, just nodded and made sure to always check that he was using his own blue toothbrush before he shoved it into his mouth.

The green toothbrush, he came to find out, was used exclusively for scrubbing blood (and other disgusting fluids) out of clothes. Despite their semi-nomadic lifestyle, there was always a green toothbrush in the bathroom of wherever they stayed and it was frequently put to use removing stains (hunting related and otherwise) from their clothes.

Naturally, as soon as Sammy was old enough to start questioning things (which Dean's thinks was right around when he started talking) the toothbrush questions started. Why was it a green coloured toothbrush? Why not red? Why can't he have a green toothbrush too? Why, why, why?

Dean had told little Sammy that it didn't matter, just to not use any green toothbrushes he found in bathrooms, end of story. That was of course followed by more questions. What else did they do with the toothbrush? Was is special? Was Dean allowed to use it for his teeth?

"Just. Don't. Use. It," Dean had said with as much authority as a child can when giving instructions.

Not surprisingly Sam had been unhappy with the lack of answers and had later grabbed that green toothbrush and defiantly used it. He'd been sick for three days, puking, and it had taken weeks for him to finally be free of that horrible taste in his mouth. He'd ended up with an infection in his throat with oddly iridescent greenish coloured spots which must have been fun for John to try to explain to the doctor without giving the full story. At the time Dean hadn't known the cause was supernatural but he had known that his father blamed him for Sammy's disobedience.

Over the years Dean had taken a sick delight in selecting the most obnoxious toothbrushes for his brother whenever the opportunity had presented itself. Sam had used everything from pink sparkly princess brushes to neon purple to SpongeBob covered ones. That was the cost of not listening Dean had told him. For using the green brush Sam was cursed with having whatever gosh awful design Dean selected, at least until he was old enough to go buy his own.

And right now Dean would have been happy to find a girly, stupid cartoon covered toothbrush for his brother. But no, fate was not on his side tonight. The hotel vending machine had little travel folding toothbrushes. They had been green. The 7-11 had been all out of stock, the mom and pop grocery store around the corner had only offered denture brushes (which Dean had considered for a moment but decided against, mainly because they were teal in colour and that was too close to green). This was literally the last shop in town that was open this late and his last chance to do the one thing in his power right now to help Sam.

The last couple days were one huge cluster-fuck. So many things had gone wrong and the fact that Sam's toothbrush had been left behind was probably the least important of all. Right now though, it was the only problem Dean could fix. Or so he had thought anyway.

It should have been a quick fix and right now Dean just didn't have the reserves to tackle the bigger issues, let alone go back to the motel to his depressed and concussed little brother empty handed.

…...

Marcia, the night clerk at the Richmond Super-Quick Mart, had seen enough troubled parents come in at all hours of the night over the years, varying expressions of desperation and exasperation on their faces. She sized up Dean pretty quickly and decided to leave her post at the cash register behind the bulletproof glass, a necessity she loathed.

"Honey? Can I help you find something?" she asked the tired looking, handsome young man standing in front of the small selection of health and beauty supplies. He had come in confident but now looked more crestfallen than anything else.

She watched him as he hesitated before asking, "You have any other colours? Anything but green?" holding up the packaged toothbrush, looking sheepish.

"Anything for you, Sugar," Marcia said and quickly ducked into the back. She had to move a few crates, dig through several boxes and finally use the step ladder to locate them but there was indeed a small box of overstock toiletries destined for the sales floor.

"Here we go, Dear," she said, handing the box to a very relieved Dean. "You just look though there and find the right one for your little one, okay?"

Dean quickly grabbed a random brush that fulfilled his requirements: neither the dreaded green nor blue in colour like his own. The idea of mixing up toothbrushes with his brother was only one step down in grossness from a green brush. Okay, maybe more than one step down, he conceded remembering the shifter goo he'd scrubbed from the sleeve of his shirt just the other day.

"Uh, thanks," Dean said as he paid for his purchase. Funny, take away the flirting and work related lying and he was just as awkward feeling as anyone else.

"No problem, Dear. Now you go give your little one a kiss from Auntie Marcia," the clerk said as she smiled and handed the little bag to Dean. Another minor tragedy averted, a good night in Marcia's book.

"I'll do be sure and do that," Dean said, amused look on his face.

Shaking his head Dean left the store. He tossed the bag onto the passenger's seat of the Impala. The toothbrush slid out and Dean paused to really look at it. He smiled, noting he'd picked a brush obviously meant as a Halloween novelty. It was black with little benign looking cartoon ghosts.

"Better than SpongeBob," Dean said aloud to himself, tossing his prize back onto the seat. He checked the time, noting that he'd taken far longer than was reasonable to just go pick up a toothbrush. He certainly wasn't about to admit to Sam that he'd gone to three stores for something that could have very reasonably have waited until the next morning. But Sam was fussy about brushing his teeth and Dean knew it. One night of skipped brushing was sure to irritate his little brother and quite possibly bring on a mini lecture of the importance of proper dental care to one's overall health, not to mention the costs of preventable dental issues.

Dean pulled out of the parking lot, thinking up a story to justify how long he'd been gone - something that involved a stop at a bar and a hot blonde.

Cause there was no way in hell he'd tell Sam all that time had been spent looking for a toothbrush. Dean would never admit it was all to keep Sam from having to use a green toothbrush ever again.


End file.
